The Price of Friendship
by Princess Twila
Summary: Mytho has just regained the shard of his heart representing fear.  A new development to his relationship with Fakir.  NO THIS IS NOT A YAOI FANFIC.  Sorry.  And also apologizing for Fakir's foul mouth.


**The Price of Friendship**

**Summary:** So I saw the sixth episode (Dreaming Aurora) of _Princess Tutu_, and this crazy idea for a fanfiction evolved…basically this is the very minutes leading up to when Mytho regains the shard of his heart that is fear and then the few hours afterwards. PLEASE DON'T FLAME ME I HAVEN'T YET SEEN THE WHOLE SEASON!

**Characters:** Mytho, Fakir, Duck (yes, I know her name is Ahiru, but I like calling her Duck), Rue, Traveling Ballet Company.

Mytho sat silently and placidly between Rue and Fakir, watching Lady Palimony gracefully leap across the stage. He had been changing lately, feeling things he had never felt before. He knew that these changes disturbed Fakir…or at least since he had started changing he had finally realized it. He was also aware of a new and sudden tension between Fakir and Rue…or at least he was aware of it since he had started changing.

Wait – what was this? He could feel a slight trembling in his chest, slightly off-center and to the left where his actual heart was. He gave an involuntary gasp as heat suffused his body – as well as a new feeling. But this feeling quickly doused the warmth that normally accompanied the return of a shard of his heart. An ice-cold feeling raced through his veins, making him shake and his eyes widen. The feeling grew stronger as it sought to consume his entire being.

"AAAAHHHHH!" he cried out, standing up and clutching his heart.

"Mytho!" Fakir yelled, alarmed.

"A shard has been returned!" Rue whispered urgently to Fakir. Mytho was still shrieking as the agony of this new feeling set his heart racing and the sweat breaking out over his body.

"What?" Fakir raged. He immediately picked Mytho up, his hands under his knees and arms as he raced the screaming boy out of the theater. He could dimly hear Mr. Cat ordering everyone to remain calm behind him.

Mytho's screams finally died down a bit as he was reduced to gasping and clutching Fakir as though he were the only lifeline left in the world. Fakir noticed this, and the anger rose in his chest at Princess Tutu for returning the shards of Mytho's heart and hurting his friend so. But unfortunately, no one else saw that he was only trying to protect his friend. It was bad enough that Mytho had suffered the pain of having his heart shattered into a myriad of fragments; now Princess Tutu was putting his friend through the same pain, only this time it was more prolonged, as she returned the heart shards to him.

"Hang on, Mytho," Fakir gasped as he ran the two of them away to safety. "Damn that Princess Tutu."

He finally stopped by the edge of town on an old wooden bridge crossing the stream at the town limits. His chest was heaving from having run so far while holding his beloved friend. The poor boy was still shaking and trembling, and pure rage coursed through Fakir's veins again as he watched his friend become reduced to a coward.

"Oh Mytho," Fakir said almost lovingly as he grasped his friend closer to his chest. He eventually lowered himself into a kneeling position, trying to set Mytho sitting by himself so that he could ask him what was bothering him. It became highly evident, however, that the mere thought of breaking away from Fakir at the moment was too much for Mytho as the boy grabbed Fakir around his middle and remained clinging to him, whimpering. Fakir felt an immense protective sense for his friend come over him, and he wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders, whispering gently into his hair. There were not many times that Fakir did not behave bossily; it was only during the situations that he deemed bossiness unnecessary that he would show his softer and more gentle side, a side that only Mytho had ever seen.

Mytho was breathing heavily against Fakir's chest. "I'm scared," he whispered over and over again.

Fakir drew his friend's head closer to him, tangling his fingers in that silky white hair. "It's all right; I'm here," he whispered back. When he saw that his friend was still trembling, he tried for a different tactic.

"What's wrong? What scares you?" he asked quietly. "Tell me."

"Tutu," Mytho murmured brokenly. Fakir's breath caught in his throat as a look of horror passed over his face. "I'm afraid of Princess Tutu." Mytho repeated it a second time as he drew Fakir impossibly closer.

Fakir didn't know how long he and Mytho stayed on the bridge. He only listened angrily to Mytho's repeated words: "I'm afraid of Princess Tutu." He decided that the only course of action available to him was to again attempt to hide Mytho away from the world until he could forget his feelings and go back to a life of being numb.

Fakir silently carried Mytho back to the ballet dorms, where he packed some clothes for Mytho and a blanket before sneaking back out and hiding Mytho away in an old abandoned water mill house. Mytho was trembling slightly less than before, and could finally be convinced to let Fakir go from time to time. Fakir secretly adored the trust his friend put in him, which could possibly be another reason why he did not want his friend's heart to be returned; with the return of the heart shards, Mytho was beginning to question Fakir like he never had before.

Mytho allowed himself to be changed from his school uniform and into his gray satin pajamas before being lowered onto his bed of sackcloth. Fakir wrapped the blanket around Mytho's form so that the rough sackcloth would not scratch his velvety skin. Fakir turned to leave to go back to the dorms to get food.

"Fakir?"

"What is it?"

"…"

"What do you want, Mytho?" The words came out angrier than Fakir wanted them to; but then again, he normally sounded angrier than he wanted to whenever he was around Mytho.

"Please don't leave me, Fakir. I'm scared."

"You're still scared?" 'The other feelings didn't stick around this long,' Fakir commented to himself.

"Please don't go."

"You are such a coward, Mytho." But Fakir caved in the end and sat by Mytho's head, stroking his hair as the frightened boy eventually fell asleep.

As he sat next to his friend, Fakir wondered how the world could be so cruel to such a beautiful creature. No, it was not the world that had been cruel; it had been Drosselmeyer who had ruined the prince's future. If Drosselmeyer had not created such a tragedy with the Raven, the Raven never would have escaped the story and Mytho would never have had to shatter his heart in order to confine the Raven. He vaguely wondered if Drosselmeyer was somehow still controlling events and coming back to haunt Mytho. He desperately hoped not; a return of Drosselmeyer would also mean a return of the Raven.

Mytho stirred in his sleep, and his stirrings quickly evolved into an agitated tossing and turning as he moaned in his sleep. Suddenly his face clenched as if in pain, and he cried out.

"Mytho!" Fakir yelled, shaking his friend. Mytho's eyes snapped open as his cry was cut off abruptly. Mytho once again resumed his death grip from earlier on Fakir, and Fakir sighed in annoyance. He reluctantly moved his arms to cradle Mytho's head as he murmured into the boy's ear to settle him.

After what seemed like ages, Mytho finally went back to sleep. Fakir sighed and walked over to the window again. He watched the reflection of the moon on the water outside of the mill house. It would be much better for Mytho to live a life devoid of any emotion and not have to suffer any pain than it would be for him to experience life to its fullest, which meant also experiencing pain. It was his duty as Mytho's friend to make sure that no one could ever hurt Mytho again.

But what about the old Mytho? What had the old Mytho been like? Curiosity intruded upon Fakir's thoughts at what a Mytho experiencing life to its fullest would be like. Perhaps he might even knowingly forgive Fakir his faults…he certainly could not expect a numb Mytho to be capable of forgiving anything. Fakir growled as the two parts of him warred against each other. Eventually his realistic side won over; he would keep Mytho in the dark. He would reduce himself to a monster, hiding his friend away from the light in order to protect that friend. He would pay the price of friendship if it meant Mytho never being hurt again.

Damn that Princess Tutu.


End file.
